


Stranger in Gotham

by Hopeful_monster



Series: Choose your own adventure [4]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 21:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_monster/pseuds/Hopeful_monster





	Stranger in Gotham

There are two extremes on the continental United States. on one coast there is Los Angeles. This is where you go when you are running to somewhere or something. It is where you go when you have a chasing your hopes your dreams. When you are thinking of the future. Rachel. Amber was one such person. She was running to her dreams that could only come true in LA. 

 

However, on the other coast is the opposite. The city where you go when you are running from something. From decisions, you have made that you never want to think of again. From crimes you've committed, from debts you've accumulated. From the past. That city is Gotham. 

 

Max was running from such a decision. She was running from the decision she made that cost the lives of 742 people to save one. 

 

\--//-- 

 

Stephanie Brown like to patrolling. It was simple and straightforward. Also, unlike a lot of bat work, she often felt she made a big difference saving everyday people from minor crimes. Sure, the crimes by people like the Joker or Mr Freeze were bigger in the overall scheme of things, but saving everyday People from a mugging or hold up was more personal and made them that little bit better in her opinion. So, when she heard the sound of the emergency alarm ringing on patrol, she smiled realising she was going to make someone's day. Activating her com’s she said, 

 

"Hey, Oracle. They're playing the alarm mambo, should I swing over for a quick step?" 

 

"Since they're playing your song it seems only polite " O’s smile could be heard through at her headpiece. 

 

As she swung down to street level, she could see your mum and pop corner store in question with its alarm blaring outside. Sneaking in she used her optics to case the shop floor. She could two see two people huddled behind a shelf unit, one hiding behind the counter and the final occupant standing in front of the counter waving an assault rifle. A simple electro goop arang would quickly solve this problem, and it did take out the assault rifle-wielding thug in short order. The problem was that the person hiding behind the counter wasn't the shopkeeper but another thug who pulled out a hand cannon and pointed it directly at Stephanie's face. 

 

While instinct and training made her jump to one side and the logical part of her brain knew that it wouldn't make a difference. Instead of the booms she was expecting us, all she heard was the “click, click, click” of empty chambers. Thanking her luck, she bounced back round and after a quick one, two punch took the perp down. She quickly turned to check on the other two people in the store to make sure they weren't more trouble. What she saw was two heads peering around a shop display, one topped with a beanie and framed with blue hair, the other pale and freckled, with a trickle of blood coming from her nose. The heads ducked back behind the shelf like kids caught spying on adults. 

 

“Did you see that!” One of the girls said, “we’ve been in Gotham less than a week and we’ve seen our first Bat. And damn has she got a hella fine ass. Shit. Max did you…?” 

 

Since they were obviously bystanders, Steph turned and focused on the gun the crook behind the counter had been holding. To the naked eye, it seemed like an ordinary gun, but with a wiggle of her ears, the enhanced ‘Bat vision’ showed her hands to be empty. 

 

“Hey O, are you not seeing this as well?” She said into her mic. A nearly instantaneous reply came, “Yes, and I don’t like what I’m not seeing. Grab the gun and get your ‘hella fine ass’ back to the Firewall.” 

 

“My WHAT? Please tell me you didn’t record that.” 

 

\--//-- 

In the relative privacy of the disabled lift Stephanie filled in her ‘partner in vigilantism’, Wendy Harris, all about this week's adventure, finishing by saying “even the big B was impressed by what we did. How was your weekend? “ 

 

 

Wendy set her electric wheelchair into motion as she spoke, “Since I broke my arm, I feel like a beached whale in this thing.” 

 

Whatever else she was going to say was last lost in the sound of falling files and books and the gasping sob from behind them. Both turned to see a small brunette surrounded by her books and files sobbing to herself repeatedly mutter “I’m so sorry Chloe I’m so sorry Chloe.” 

 

As Steph gathered up the spilt papers, Wendy approached the sobbing girl only to have her latch on begging ‘Chloe’ to forgive her. Through a mix of gentle, but persistent, persuasion and simple manual handling they got her into ‘Professor’ Gordon’s office, and not soon afterwards she passed out on the couch. While she ‘slept’ they found her ICE number and Wendy used her techno-magic to pull up her file. Mere seconds after it popped up, she swore quietly, “The poor girl’s from Arcadia Bay. She must have had a flashback.” 

 

Although it was widely attributed to a metahuman, there had been no definitive proof that the disaster had been caused by one. 

 

after half an hour of fitful rest, a blue-haired punk entered 

 

Although it was widely attributed to a metahuman, there had been no definitive proof that the disaster had been caused by one. Steph how it must feel for the girl, to be so powerless in the face of such power. She knew the good metahumans could do, Superman, Wonder Woman, even her friend Kara were all shining examples of the best of them. She’d also fought against them as well, Livewire, Diesel, holographic Dracula’s, but she’d had training, experience, the best gadgets money could buy, but most importantly, she had chosen this. This girl was never given that choice, it had been thrust upon her and she had come out the worse for it. 

 

After half an hour of fitful rest, a blue-haired punk entered with the grace of a charging bull, waking the traumatised brunette who launched herself at the newcomer. Once she had been soothed by calming and gentle words whispered in her ear, they left after brief but heartfelt thanks leaving Steph bereft of the warm glow from previous weeks work.


End file.
